


The Hazards of Hot Neighbors and Stubborn Roommates

by shireness



Series: The Perils of Firemen and the Food Network [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, frozen jewel companion piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shireness/pseuds/shireness
Summary: Elsa Arendelle is instantly attracted to her new neighbor. But the whole thing is complicated by her roommate's own love life. A Frozen Jewel companion piece to The Perils of Firemen and the Food Network.





	The Hazards of Hot Neighbors and Stubborn Roommates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kmomof4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmomof4/gifts).



> For @kmomof4, who accidentally gave me this idea when she asked about a possible follow-up to The Perils of Firemen and the Food Network. I'd recommend reading that first for some of the context and references, though it's not strictly necessary.
> 
> Fair warning: I tagged this for Captain Swan because the original fic was a CS fic, but they're a plot point more than a focus in this. I'm just greedy for exposure. It is entirely a Frozen Jewel fic with mentions of CS.
> 
> Rated M because this is easily the most suggestive thing I've ever written, and it's not even my usual pairing. What even.

Elsa meets the dreamboat on a Tuesday evening.

(She can already hear that voice in her head that sounds an awful lot like Anna snorting ungracefully at her use of the phrase, but she stands by it.)

It’s been a long day, and she’s still loaded down with files for her to work her way through tonight. It’s research for this big case she’s working on; entirely boring, entirely necessary. Her current plan for surviving the ordeal is lots and lots of wine. Which is probably the most adult thought she’s ever had in her life.

Stepping into the elevator, she’s so ready to just hit that 4 button and go home, when she suddenly hears a commotion by the entrance. Well, maybe commotion is too strong a word. No one is being attacked, or trying to force their way into the building, or any number of other reasonable situations to use the word ‘commotion’ (God, she’s probably read too many legal briefs if this is where her mind goes). This particular commotion is one man trying to wriggle his way through the lobby doors with a stack of boxes, and all the noise that accompanies such an action.

Elsa won’t lie - she’s tired, her feet are killing her, and she’d _really_ like to press the door close button. But she may need to have the door held for her one day, and anyway, it’s probably not the best way to start her interactions with this new neighbor. So she holds the door open button, and waits for the guy to scootch his way into the elevator.

“Thanks,” he says in a deep, accented voice, readjusting the load in his arms. “I wasn’t looking forward to holding these any longer than necessary. Five, please.”

Peering his head around as she presses the button, Elsa finally gets a good look at his face. And Lord, is she glad she does. He’s a gorgeous specimen of man - broad-shouldered and strong, with sandy curls and blue eyes she could _swear_ were twinkling, like some kind of fairy tale prince. And his arms… Elsa is sure she’s being less than polite and gawking, but the way he’s supporting his stack of boxes perfectly displays his biceps beneath his short sleeves. Emma may tease her for having a thing for lumberjacks and mountain men, but to Elsa, there’s just something about a man who looks like he works with his hands, who has the calluses and muscles to prove it. And this man, the new tenant, is a prime example.

He offers her a sly smile - and God, even a bit smug, it’s a great smile, one that really suits his face - and Elsa frantically searches for words, flustered at having been caught staring. “Moving in?”

(Smooth. Real smooth.)

He offers her a warmer smile all the same, much to Elsa’s relief. “Aye, 5E, my brother and I just signed the lease. I’m Liam, by the way - I’d offer you a hand to shake, but…” he trails off, smile turning cheeky.

“Elsa, 4E. I suppose you’ll be our upstairs neighbors then?”

“Seems so. We’ll keep it down, I promise.”

Elsa chuckles, taking a final moment to imprint his features as the elevator doors slide open. “Well, it was very nice to meet you, Liam in 5E. I’ll see you around?” Her voice, traitor that it is, takes a turn for the hopeful at the end of her sentence, and she only hopes she doesn’t look a complete fool.

Liam doesn’t seem put off by it if she does, at least, offering a final smile before the door closes. “Aye, you will.”

(And then the door closes, and Elsa’s left to collect the rest of her scattered composure.)

\------

Emma, of course, is already plopped on the couch when when Elsa slips in the front door, and immediately notices her distraction.

“What’s up with you?” Emma all but demands.

Elsa just waves her off, toeing off her suede heels in the entryway and trying her best not to make eye contact. “Don’t worry about it. Anything up with you?”

Emma, thankfully, is good enough to ignore whatever is up with her roommate, shrugging casually and digging into the microwave meal in her hands. Looks like ravioli tonight. “Nothing much. Trying to track down where this latest douchebag might turn up. Think someone’s moving in upstairs, there’s been a lot of scraping and whatnot up there.”

Elsa’s distracted flipping through the mail, which is her only excuse for why the next words slip out. “Yeah, I met one of them in the lobby. Nice guy.”

Emma’s head jerks back to attention in Elsa’s direction, a devious grin on her face that Elsa is _sure_ Emma would resent if the tables were turned. “Oh? Is that why you seem so distracted?”

Elsa can feel seemingly all the bloody in her head rush directly to her cheeks, eliminating any chance of denying the truth of Emma’s question. Her roommate knows it too, smiling smugly before continuing her interrogation.

“It is, isn’t it? Oh, I’m going to have to meet the guy who can rattle stoic Elsa Arendelle. He’s got to be cute to get you this shaken up, right?”

Cue another rush of blood to her face. Damn her Norwegian genes, she must look like a blonde tomato at this point.

“C’mon,” Emma wheedles, apparently committed to breaking out her best Ruby Lucas impression this evening. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”

With a deep breath, Elsa finally confesses. It’s apparently the only way to please her roommate. For a woman who really hates people asking about her own love life, Emma seemingly has no qualms about meddling with Elsa’s. “Yes, he’s cute, alright? Really cute. He’s got fantastic arms and the bluest eyes. Happy?”

“Very,” Emma announces smugly, before digging back into her dinner. That’s the thing with Emma Swan - if she’s gotten the information she wants, she doesn’t see the need to ask any further. Bless her for that, in this case. Elsa isn’t in much of a mood to elaborate further.

“Good. In that case, I wanted to talk to you about maybe upgrading our cable service…”

\------

It’s almost a month before Elsa sees him again - a month that she does _not_ spend looking for him every time she enters the building, no, not at all.

When they do finally run into one another, it’s at the worst possible moment, of course, when Elsa’s on her hands and knees in the lobby trying to gather up the files she dropped. She’s muttering curses to herself, just trying to gather everything up - at least it hasn’t rained, this could be a lot worse if the floor was wet - when suddenly, there’s another hand trying to gather everything up with her. A large hand. A male hand. A large, male hand, connected to the arm of Liam in 5E.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he teases, blue eyes twinkling. Elsa couldn’t agree more. She’d like a lot of meetings, preferably not in this lobby, and not in her work clothes, and maybe with some mood music and generally without anyone being in danger of dropping things. Except maybe their pants. In a manner of speaking.

“Oh, don’t I know it,” she manages to stutter out, fully aware that her face has become a bright red beacon. Really, damn her Norwegian pastiness.

It does, however, get him to chuckle - a deep, rich thing that sets her insides all a-flutter as they work together to pick up the last of the pages, the occasional brush of fingers only encouraging the butterflies in her stomach.

“Thanks,” she says as the both straighten up, the stack of papers returned to their folder. She’ll worry about the proper order later.

“Not a problem, lass,” he replies, “it was my pleasure. It’s not everyday I get to play the gallant knight. Coming back from work late, I take it? Unless these are your leisure clothes.”

Elsa _had_ been deeply uncomfortable in her tight dress and heels most of the day, but honestly had all but forgotten her discomfort in the time since Liam had entered her line of sight. Glancing down again, she’s pleased to note that she’s at least no horribly wrinkled. “Oh! Yeah, I stayed later than I should dealing with some paperwork. I do have less formal clothes, I promise.”

“I suppose I’ll have to see those sometime.”

Oh my God, is he flirting with her? He’s totally flirting with her. She thinks. Elsa isn’t really all that great at this whole thing, but she’s, like, 85% sure that his words combined with the roguish smile means he’s flirting with her. Which means he might like her too? Maybe? Wow, that’s new and different.

But it’s a _good_ different, a great one in fact, so she gathers up all her courage to say something marginally flirty back:

“Well, I’ll have to make sure of it.”

\------

It’s always the evenings. Without fail, if she’s going to see Liam from 5E, it’s when she’s coming home from work in the evening.

She learns he’s a firefighter the day he walks into the elevator with her, tired and smelling of smoke. He must read the concern in her face because he waves her off with an exhausted smile before she can ask why he smells like something burning.

(“Occupational hazard, I’m afraid. We work down at the local fire station, my brother and I - I’m the captain, actually. Sometimes that means I have to be on call, or sleep at the station, and sometimes it means I come home smelling like something’s still on fire. I’ve rather gotten used to it, I’m afraid.” His tone is almost apologetic, which really concerns Elsa.

“Oh, it’s no problem! Just… a little confusing to smell when I didn’t know the rest of the story.”)

He learns about her sister in London when she’s pacing the lobby, trying to finish the call rather than lose cell signal in the elevator.

(“I’m sure she could have found a perfectly lovely job with a stateside auction house or art dealer, but Anna’s always wanted to spread her wings and see the world. And I do have to admit, the stuff she’s dealing with in London is a lot more impressive than a lot of what is dealt with on this side of the Atlantic.)

Every night they see each other, it’s harder to talk for only a short snippet of time (regardless of how slow the building’s elevator is), and eventually, Liam starts walking her to her door. It’s a little ridiculous - for Pete’s sake, she’s already in the building, there’s not a safety issue or something - but they both ignore it in favor of spending just a little more time in one another’s company.

She’s actually just left Liam walking back to the elevator when she walks in her and Emma’s apartment to discover the younger Jones also inside, and Emma herself somewhat flustered by his presence. Which is probably valid, considering it turns out he climbed in through the window in response to Emma’s poor attempts at cooking. But Emma can hold her own, and Elsa can tell this is more than just disconcertion born of the unexpected situation. No - her roommate, prone to one-night stands and an impressive avoidance of feelings, _likes_ Killian, finds him attractive, and doesn’t know what to do with it. Elsa gently tries to prod her to talk about the encounter, but Emma is stubborn, and changes the subject to avoid the matter.

They’ll work on that.

\------

It’s been over two months of this emotional standstill - waiting for the other at the elevator and long, drawn-out talks and pretending that there’s no underlying attraction - when Elsa decides she’s sick of it. She gets enough of that just watching Emma with Killian. Elsa likes Liam, a lot, and she’s practically positive he feels the same. So one evening, as he’s talking about God only knows what (something his brother did, probably - Killian always seems to provide conversation fodder with his antics), she grabs Liam by the front of his damnably tight t-shirt and forcibly hauls him close enough to plant her lips on his.

There’s a short, muffled grunt of surprise, but Liam more than willingly joins in, kissing her with an insistance that Elsa relishes. Liam may be just her type, but Elsa’s always gone for nice boys, sweet boys, boys who kiss slowly and deliberately and delicately like she’s some fragile flower or precious gift. Liam may be that nice boy - nice _man_ \- too, a man with a charming smile who listens to her like every word from her mouth is fascinating and holds elevator doors so she doesn’t have to worry about rushing, but his kiss is a far cry from that: passionate and deep and determined in a way she might almost label aggressive if she wasn’t enjoying herself so damn much.

Somehow, he’s backed her into the wall beside her door, hands on her hips and crowding somehow even closer into her space. Their lips break apart for a minute to catch a breath, but he’s far from idle, mouthing along her jawbone in a way that makes Elsa’s head tip back in appreciation, barely stifling a moan. Almost against her conscious thought, her leg in its tailored pant is rising to hitch around his own thigh and create more space for him to occupy. As his hips willingly fill that space, flush with her own, their mouths reconnect and Elsa finds herself rocking forward, and forward, and forward…

It’s only a vague awareness of her surroundings that suddenly reminds Elsa that they’re still in the fourth floor hallway, grinding on one another like a pair of horny teenagers. And she is an _adult_. They both are. They can’t keep doing this, no matter how much she wants to…

And in a sudden epiphany, Elsa remembers:

Emma has that stakeout tonight, and won’t be home.

After that, it only takes a moment to push Liam away (to no small protest, she’s pleased to note, pained groans and chasing lips and all) and frantically dig the keys out of her briefcase to get the damn door open. When the final bolt clicks, Elsa turns to dramatically (and hopefully seductively) lean against the door, one arm still grasping the doorknob behind her back. She never does things like this; she may as well revel in the moment while it’s here.

“I’ve got the place to myself tonight…” she says, voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. Jesus, he really did a number on her with that kiss, didn’t he?

Liam’s eyebrow quirks; whether in amusement or interest, she can’t tell, but honestly, either will work for her purposes as long as it gets him inside and onto a flat surface. Any flat surface. She’s not picky. “Is that an invitation, lass?”

“If you want it to be.”

There’s no verbal response, but Liam steps back into her space to fuse their mouths once more, reaching to clasp the doorknob along with her and finally open the door.

And really, that’s enough of an answer, in and of itself.

\------

They’re lying in bed in the aftermath, sweat pooling, breaths still uneven, hearts thumping frantically, when Elsa decides to just go ahead and address the elephant in the room. Turning her head to face Liam, he looks remarkably content; sprawled in her bed naked, one of his fantastic arms tossed over his eyes and brow. She could get used to such a sight, but she’s got to make sure that that’s something he wants too. Going into this, Elsa had been confident they were on the same page, but she’s always been a girl who looks before she leaps, and diving right in without discussing things first, like they’ve done now, makes her nervous.

“So…” she begins, eliciting a muffled hum from the man beside her. “Is this something we’re going to do again, or…”

Liam snorts, his whole body heaving with the effort. “I’m going to need a little time to recuperate, lass.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” she mutters. “Not like that, smartass.” Even if her wording really did leave that response wide open.

“I know.” There’s a pause. “I suppose… well, I know this meant something to me. I’ve fancied you for quite a while, lass, it just took you practically mauling me in the hallway to do anything about it. I know we’ve done this all in a bit of a round-about fashion, but would you like to get dinner sometime?”

Even laying naked in bed, after all the activities such a thing suggests, Elsa feels a sudden wave of shyness at his earnest entreaty. Resisting the urge to curl back in on herself, she rolls over to snuggle into his side instead, revelling in the feeling of his warm arm coming to encircle her waist. Meeting his eyes, she smiles. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

It surprises her when Liam exhales a sudden sigh, seemingly in relief. At her questioning hum, he elaborates. “It seems ridiculous now, but you wouldn’t _believe_ how nervous I was to ask you out.”

It’s Elsa’s turn to offer her own snort, before tightening her own arm more securely across his torso. “Well, I was the one doing the mauling. That should have made it fairly obvious I’d accept.”

The smile that overtakes his face at those words is breathtaking, in it’s own small and quiet way. “I’m glad to hear it,” he murmurs, forehead coming to rest against her own as his arm snakes tighter around her bare waist.

“Good.”

And then they’re kissing again. The franticness of earlier has ebbed, the passion of new discovery subsiding into something more languid and sensuous. Neither of them are ready for another round (though God, does she want one later), but it’s an enjoyable occupation, and a fitting seal to their brief discussion.

It’s with a small reluctance that Elsa pulls away some minutes later, but there’s always the reassurance that they can pick up again. There’s an issue that needs addressing, though, and she’d rather deal with it now when they’re both happy and basking in that new relationship glow (okay, the post-sex glow too).

“I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“Anything, lass,” he murmurs, still nosing behind her ear to drop small, delicate kisses.

“Ok, I know this is going to sound stupid, but there really is a good reason, and I promise I don’t mean forever, just for the time being, so really -”

“You’re rambling, darling. It’s quite a cute nervous habit, really.”

“- I don’t want to tell Emma yet.”

That warrants a hard pause.

“I know that it’s probably really stupid, but she’s so damn stubborn and she’ll probably view us getting together as some weird prelude to a set-up she’ll resist on principle. I know she has a thing for your brother, and I think that will resolve itself within a couple weeks, just… Please?”

“You do realize if we don’t tell Emma, I can’t tell Killian either, right? They’re thick as thieves and he’s absolute shit at keeping secrets.”

“Please?”

Liam huffs and sighs, but finally nods in agreement. “Alright. But let’s hope they resolve this soon; I don’t relish the idea of keeping this to ourselves for too long.”

“Agreed.” Because really, Emma needs to get her ass in gear, before it gets truly ridiculous. “But in the meantime…” Armed with a new confidence in their budding relationship, Elsa straddles his still-naked hips, letting the sheets slip from her bare shoulders in a sensuous display.

Liam grins slowly, eyebrow quirking as he seems to catch where her mind has gone. “Aye?”

“In the meantime… Let’s see what I can do to make it up to you.”

\------

It’s a wonderful new world, dating Liam Jones. It’s all the beautiful companionship of their previous friendship, but with the added bonus of amazing kissing and some really great sex. Liam seems to revel in taking her on proper dates, and they spend every chance they have together - in and out of bed.

The one drawback is the continuing Emma/Killian situation. They’re both so damn stubborn, and Elsa has long since learned that any attempts to engage Emma in a conversation about the man the the latter doesn’t start herself is absolutely fruitless. It would have been annoying, before, when Elsa was just trying to help her roommate come to terms with her own feelings; now, with the reveal of a relationship waiting on that acceptance, it’s downright infuriating.

“I wish they’d just _do it_ !” she practically growls from the Joneses’ couch one evening, Liam and herself curled up pretending to watch _Dial M for Murder_ on her favorite classic movie channel while Killian is on call at the fire station and Emma has a stakeout. The movie-watching endeavor was never destined to be successful; even without Elsa’s frustration with the non-existent progress in her friend’s relationship, they’d likely just be making out on the couch anyways, Liam making an admirable attempt to do just that only a few minutes ago by placing a series of increasingly insistent kisses along her jaw and neckline.

“I hate to be speaking in support of their lollygagging in any way, but we both knew they’d both need to get their in their own time, especially Emma,” he replies, ever her voice of reason. “I will say, I fully expected them to cave by now.”

“That’s exactly it!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up and nearly whacking Liam in the head in the process (he’ll live). “What the hell is taking them so long? Hurry it up already!”

But they don’t hurry it up, and they don’t cave. There’s just a constant dancing around one another, and a seeming increase in Emma avoiding her. It’s _infuriating_.

It finally comes to a head when Liam picks her up for dinner one night (well, as much as that term is applicable; he’s literally just walking down some stairs, not driving halfway across town to collect her), a gloom casting his usually calm and handsome face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Elsa asks, concerned. It’s wildly out of character for him to show up acting like this, and she almost worries about what that means for them. _He adores you,_ she’s careful to remind herself. _You’re not the problem_.

Despite plans to find a little place to eat near the water, Liam comes in and crashes on the couch, already aware that Emma’s not home. “Apparently, Emma kissed Killian last night. And then ran out of there like the hounds of hell themselves were on her heels.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Elsa somehow manages to say, sinking onto the couch herself. “She hasn’t said anything about it to me.”

“What are we supposed to do?” he all but demands. “Do we now have to go on pretending forever? Do we assume they’ll still eventually figure this shit out and get together? Or are we at lost cause stage? I have to be honest, I’m rather pissed at your roommate - Killian’s devastated, moping around the apartment like the world itself is ending.”

“I don’t know,” she mutters absentmindedly, still trying to process all the new information. Shit, what _are_ they supposed to do, in light of this new development? “I guess we wait and see? Give it a week, see if the situation will resolve itself?”

“A week,” Liam repeats with finality. “But after that, I don’t care. It’s been long enough, we’ve been keeping this quiet for seven weeks. 2 months even is more than enough.”

“Okay, a week.” They really should get going - both are dressed and ready to walk out the door, but they sit there just a minute longer, trying to process their resolution and the events that led to it.

“ _Shit_.”

\------

“I kissed him,” Emma blurts out, and Elsa does her best to look surprised. She’s known for almost three damn days now; it’s hard to really muster up a look of true shock, but Emma’s flustered emotional state thankfully means she doesn’t pick up on her faking.

Honestly, Elsa is holding back a laugh the entire time. Emma’s been avoiding any relationship with Killian because she thought _Elsa_ liked him? True, she did say the upstairs neighbor was cute, but there are two of them - even if Emma has never met Liam. That’s the only excuse Elsa can come up with - Emma has never met Liam, has never seen what he looks like, has never observed Elsa and Liam together. Otherwise she thinks it’d be so damn _obvious_ which Jones she had meant was cute, that it’s almost laughable.

She only lets the laughter loose again when Emma rushes back out of the apartment, and that’s how Liam finds her a few minutes later - still shaking on the couch with subsiding laughter and wiping tears from her eyes because of it.

“I take it things went well with Emma, considering she’s about to jump my brother and you’re laughing your arse off down here?” he asks amusedly. Oh, how Elsa loves how he says ‘arse’ - it’s enough to send her into another fit of giggles.

Liam is increasingly confused as her laughter deepens, one eyebrow creeping higher and higher as he grins in that way he does when he doesn’t quite get the joke. “Really, lass, I must insist,” he finally interrupts. “What in the world is so funny?”

Honestly, she has to take a moment to catch her breath, holding a finger in the air in a waiting motion, trying to collect herself enough to speak. Finally, she bursts out - much the way Emma did, not half an hour earlier:

“She hasn’t been making any move because she thought I was into your _brother_!”

The joke explained, Liam breaks into his own guffaw as his smile turns genuine, collapsing onto the couch beside her and pulling her slender body into his side. “Well, darling, is there anything I need to worry about?”

And who’s to blame her, if she sets about proving exactly how much he _doesn’t_ need to worry?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought - I love getting comments, kudos, and feedback.
> 
> As always, thanks to @awkwardnessandbaseball for her beta services. You're the best, darling.
> 
> This is also posted on tumblr - I'm @shireness-says. Come say hello.


End file.
